


my other brushes with miracles

by eudaimon



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:04:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eudaimon/pseuds/eudaimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have so much that they want to try.  Wolfgang has a wide and varied sexual history but, sometimes, Kala needs a little help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my other brushes with miracles

He lies very still, barely breathing, and just lets her look at him. He's never had much of a hang-up about nudity - never saw skin as something to be ashamed of - but he knows that things are different for Kala and, so, he's been letting her set the pace.

Which is easier said than done.

He takes a deep breath as she pushes her long, brown fingers into his hair and tugs, lightly.

"Ouch," he murmurs.  
"Oh, come on," she says, pulling a little harder. "You big baby. That doesn't hurt."

But Wolfgang knows that pain is relative, all pain. It echoes. Still, he huffs out a laugh and then presses a kiss to her bare thigh. She's stripped to bra and panties; when he lifts his head, he can see the press of her nipples against silk. He fights against the urge to reach up and tug a flimsy cup out of the way, lean in and lick her into his mouth. He behaves. He stays still.

Kala leans down over him to press a kiss between his bare shoulderblades. Her fingers skim down his spine, brushing the downy hair at the very top of the cleft of his ass. Despite himself, Wolfgang bites his lip.

"You're better at this than you've been letting on."

She shakes her head, dark hair rumpling over her shoulder.

"No, no," she says, smiling. "But I do have a very good teacher, I think."

They've barely left the bed in a week. The first time that they had sex, he'd gone slowly, so slowly, and Kala had covered her face with her hands and arched her back until he was buried as deep in her as either of them could stand. Since then, they'd tried every position that either of them could think of, some of them more successfully than others. Kala laughs often, and he likes the way it feels, the way she tightens with him inside her. The most miraculous thing is that she makes him want to laugh too. Wolfgang had always viewed sex as a labyrinth - something to get lost in and then master. He emerges not far from where he came in.

With Kala, sex is more like a straight road to a better place entirely.

The palm of her hand slides over one cheek of his ass, squeezing. He shifts his hips a little, pushing up against her touch, which shifts his dick against the sheets and makes him moan, softly, under his breath.

"I want to..." She tilts her head, mouth working like it sometimes does when she's trying to vocalise something that she hadn't quite thought through. "There's so much I want to do to you..." 

"Oh really?"  
"Internet."  
"Ah." There is nothing he wouldn't let her do to him. There is nothing he wouldn't do for her. It's a new feeling, disorientating but not at all unpleasant. "Well. What exactly is it that you would like to try?"

"Oh," says Kala. "Many things." And the way that she says it, combined with the way that she looks at him, brings unexpected blood rushing into his cheeks. Wolfgang is not accustomed to blushing; so little ever embarrasses him. 

He buries his face in her lap, the fragrant warmth of her bare thighs, so he doesn't see Lito arrive; the first he knows of it is the scrape of stubble on his inner thigh.

"Roll over." Wolfgang has never been great at taking orders but, for her, here, right now, he's willing to be pliable. He shifts, rolling over, laying his head down against the pilow, looking up at the two of them. The first time he met Lito, they'd both been naked and Wolfgang had got lost in the warmth of the water, the press of wet bodies, the lips on his skin. Now, naked again, he stretches, both arms up over his head, enjoying the fact that, for now, both of them only have eyes for him.

"It's very, very easy, sweetheart," says Lito, shifting his weight on the mattress between Wolfgang's thighs. "You just have to recognise the beauty of it and then..." He leans down, brushing his lips in a light kiss against the shaft of Wolfgang's cock, tucked right in under the head. "You have to show him how much you see it."

The first time a man sucked his cock, Wolfgang was eighteen. He doesn't remember the guy's name - some nameless fuck from a night in the club, anonymous, older. Wolfgang doesn't remember much about him, but he does remember exactly the graceful way that he slipped down onto his knees. He remembers the exact tone of voice in which that man had told him that he had a beautiful cock.

Lito's mouth slides down over the first inch of him, tucking him into the warm wetness of his mouth, tongue teasing against the head of his cock. He opens his eyes, looks straight up at Kala and he hopes that she can see, hopes she _knows_ how much he would prefer this if that was her.

"You don't have to be afraid of it," says Lito, lifting his head, working Wolfgang's cock with an expert roll of his wrist. "There is nothing to be afraid of, here. You don't even have to suck, if you don't want to. There are plenty of other things."

The world shifts, slightly, the way it's wont to these days and, suddenly, it's Kala on her knees between his spread thighs, Lito behind her, his hands on her hips. 

"Show him."

Kala gathers her hair into a spill over one shoulder before she bends down. At first all he gets is the heat of her breath against his cock; honestly, that's enough to get him hard which, more than anything, proves that he's in so much deeper than he's ever been before. She kneels there, breathing on him, her thumbs stroking against the jut of his hipbones, the springy pubic hair. Nudity isn't such a big deal - he's often naked in front of people - but, with her, he feels exposed, stripped, open to the light. He swallows, lifting his hips lightly. His cock twitches of its own accord

"Why does it do that?" she asks, stroking him lightly now, the flats of her fingers against the whole length of his cock.   
"Because I want you," he murmurs and, if Lito's still there, then he's not aware of it. "Because every inch of me wants you."

She smiles and, just for a moment, he feels like his body is a thing made out of light. Kala touches him again, more certain this time, her fingers curling around him to work over him properly. Lighter, larger fingers wrap over hers, tightening her grip a little; Lito's thumb swipes across the head of his cock, spreading slick pre-cum. It's a slow, teasing touch and he has to concentrate not to squirm under it, especially when Kala takes control again, just scraping the edge of her nail against delicate skin.

"God," he mumbles. "Please."  
"Wait," she says, and the slight sharpness, the edge, to her voice sends a shiver straight through him. Not that he wasn't expecting it from her - far from it - but because he loves any sign that he doesn't make her nervous anymore.

So he waits, eyes closed, barely breathing, as she fondles his balls, squeezing gently, as she bends her head and runs her tongue along the length of him, root to tip. He lifts his head and sees that she's snuck a hand between her thighs, fabric of her panties stretched tight over her knuckles.

He's not sure that he's ever wanted to fuck someone this much in his _life_.

"I like to think that I know a little bit about worship," she says, cradling his cock in both of her hands, his hips curtained by her hair. "I talk to Lord Ganesha a lot and I like to think he hears me." She looks up at him, tilting her head. "Do you hear me, Wolfgang?" She bends over him, kissing his belly, his ribs - the silk of her bra brushes against his cock, her cupped hands.

"Every word," he says. "I swear."

She licks him like a lollipop then and, God, he almost loses it entirely. He lifts his hands up over his head, curling his fingers around the bed frame and holding on for dear life. Some part of him, some younger, more callous part of him, wants to push his fingers into her hair and guide her mouth down onto his cock, have her suck him properly, long and hard, deep as she can take him until he comes in her mouth. There's a part of him that wants that very, very much but there's also a part of him that would be happy to take things at her pace forever, even if that means that she's never ready. That part of him is rawer and newer but he's getting used to having it around. 

He's been getting used to an awful lot of things lately.  
His cock is so hard it hurts. He keeps lifting his head so that he can see her better. There's a breeze from the window tightening the skin of his cock where it's wet from her mouth. When she presses her hands against his chest, she scrapes his nipple with the edge of her thumbnail and his cock throbs.

"There's just so many possibilities," says another familiar voice and, when he turns his head, Nomi's there, kneeling at the side of the bed with her elbows on the mattress and the sharp point of her chin leaned into the palm of one hand. Kala's like no other woman that Wolfgang has ever set eyes on but Nomi is beautiful in a way that he recognises. She was naked the first time he met her, too, but, now she's fully dressed in clinging back and Wolfgang finds his eyes darting down to the press of her tits against her t-shirt. He's not sure that anyone would blame him.

"Possibilities?" says Kala, sitting properly astride him now, a leg bent on either side of his thighs, his cock pressed against her through her panties. It's really hard to think past how hot she is, how wet...how much he wants to be inside her - they're talking, but he doesn't really hear what they're saying.

"There's a lot of power in it," Nomi is saying, and she reaches out, trailing her fingers against Wolfgang's bare chest. It isn't the same thing that he feels when Kala touches him, but there's definitely a frisson.   
"Sorry," he says, frowning, looking between them. "In what?"  
"On his back or on his hands and knees," says Nomi, tweaking one nipple between her fingers, digging her nails in. Pain and pleasure are a thin line for him and he just bites his lip over a smug, letting his eyelids slip half closed as he watches her. "Ass in the air is good. And then you..." She arches her eyebrows. The fact that she's wearing her glasses is inexplicably exciting. "Penetrate."

"Oh," says Kala, dark eyes widening. "Oh, my."  
But he can tell she doesn't hate the idea. And he doesn't hate it either. It wouldn't actually be the first time, either.

"You could," he says, moving one hand to graze against the length of her thigh. "If you wanted." He glances at Nomi and something passes between them; an understanding.

"I could," says Kala, and he can hear the decision creeping into her voice.  
"You definitely could," says Nomi, managing to sound supportive and nurturing and really fucking hot, all at the same time.

*

He ends up on hands and knees in the middle of the mattress with his ass in the air. He was naked in Bombay, surrounded by all of those people, all of the great and the good, but he feels more exposed her, just him and her and Nomi. He rests his forehead on the back of his clasped hands and waits.

"Spread your legs a little bit wider?" she asks and he hears Nomi sigh softly.  
"Don't ask," she advises. "Tell him."

And then she punctuates with a slap against his ass, hard enough that she has to leave a mark. He groans, hears Kala gasp.

"What the fuck was that?" he says, straightening up onto his knees, which just earns him another slap that doesn't hurt quite as much as the first time.

"Incentive to behave," says Nomi, and he can imagine that she's grinning. And he can't deny how hard his cock is. He glances at Kala, and he's still looking at her when she settles back onto his hands and knees. He shuffles his knees wider. He arches his back and lifts his ass and almost hopes to be slapped again.

It's Kala's fingers that slide into him, getting him ready, getting him slick. Nomi wraps one hand around Kala's wrist to guide her and, together, they fuck him carefully, deeply, stretch him out.

(That man who sucked his cock had asked him if he could fuck him and eighteen year old Wolfgang had nodded his head and bent over the end of the bed and taken what he was given, enjoyed it for what it was, let it become part of the whole tangled web of his life, of who he was).

The blunt head of the strap-on pressed against him comes as a shock. It feels huge and blunt, slick with lube. Nomi's hand presses against the small of his back. He can't see her with his head against his hands, but he imagines Kala wearing the harness over her panties, her bra discarded, her hair pushed to one side as she rocks her hips and slides into him, slow inch after slow inch. She pushes into him until he feels unbelievably full, until he can't think of anything but the cock in his ass and the press of Kala's thighs against his.

"Oh, my God," she says. "Good? Is it good?"  
He swallows, nods, gets the sense that they're alone now, that Nomi has gracefully made her exit.   
"So good." He reaches back, groping for her thigh. "Don't stop."

She fucks him slowly, carefully, and he finds himself wishing that she'd go harder, go faster, take him apart. What he gets is slow and steady, deep and thorough, until there's sweat rolling down his spine, until he's panting and rocking back into every thrust, until he's barely clinging on.

"Don't," he gasps. "Please."  
"Oh, God - did I hurt you?"

That makes him laugh and he shakes his head, fighting to catch his breath.

"I want to fuck you," he says. "I want to fuck you so, so badly and I..." He huffs a laugh. "And I don't want to have to wait to get hard again."

"Oh," she says. " _Oh_!"

He imagines the way that her eyes might widen, and it only makes him want to fuck her more, so he doesn't wait for permission before rolling over, reaching out for her to undo the buckles over her hips, loosening the harness, fumbling with it until she's free of it, until he can drop it on the floor next to the bed. He tugs her panties down, off, and then he's pulling her back over, onto him, astride him. He holds his cock in place against her and rests his hand on her hips until she starts to sink down onto him. She's still wearing her bra and so he keeps her cradled against him, in his lap and sitting on his cock as he reaches around her and slips the catch undone easily. He has a powerful need to see her completely naked and he lies back on the bed as she arches her back, lifting her breasts. She starts to rock her hips, slowly at first but quicker, but definite until she's riding him properly, the movement bouncing her breasts with every thrusts. 

"Oh, fuck me," she says, and it sounds unbelievably, incredibly dirty in her voice. "Fuck me please. I love it, I love it. Please."

Which isn't everything she means. And they both know it.

They finish sweaty and pressed together, him first and then he rolls them both, pulls out of her and kisses down her body without pausing, spreads her with his fingers and presses nose and mouth against her, hungry for her, pressing his fingers into her until she's coming, grinding hard against his face.

Perfect.

"Wow," she says, stretched out and rumpled against the white sheets as he comes up to lie beside her.  
"Wow," he echoes, pulling her in closer. Suddenly, he remembers a conversation that they had early on - about science and religion and the things that they both did and didn't believe.

What Wolfgang is coming to believe is this: that, if there is a god, then there would be no better proof of miracles that now, and here, and this.


End file.
